Daughter of the People
by dominicgrim
Summary: Ellana Lavellan was a woman of destiny, through pain she shook the world, and found herself in a place she had never known before. I do not own Dragon Age, I just play here. Rated Teen for violence and language, possible adult situations later.
1. The Two Trees

**Daughter of the People**

 **Chapter 1: The Two Trees**

 **The Free Marches: Clan Lavellan 9:40 Dragon Age**

"Clan mates, our day…has finally come!"

Ellana, Captain of the Hunters of Clan Lavellan stood before the great bonfire, pacing before the flames; she was tall for an elf and slender. Long raven colored hair flowed like dark silk down past her shoulders, two long braids ran down the sides of her face, framing her face in their dark glory. The gentle points of her ears were easy to spot, their pale skin a great contrast with her dark black hair. Violet colored eyes flashed in the fire light, the determination their made even more intense by the glow of the flickering flame.

Ellana's intensity had never been questioned, it had been her fire that had made her the hunter she was today, the woman she was today. Despite her…dubious beginning, all of the clan now saw her as a powerful ally, and servant to the clan.

And why not, she might say. She lived and would one day die for Clan Lavellan, her family.

 _Family…was all._

All around her the clan had gathered, come to hear her report, her words. The young and the old, the tall and the small, all had come at her request, and with the blessing of their Keeper. What she had to say tonight was not just for the ears of Istimaethoriel, or her First Mahanon it was for **all** of Clan Lavellan to hear. Those that had accompanied her took their place just off to her right should anyone feel the need to ask anything of them. It was not hard to notice that most were looking a little green tonight, not that Ellana blamed any of them in the least. What they had seen…it was not for the faint of heart.

She glanced over at them, her friends, her brothers and sisters. They had shed blood together, played together as children; none questioned her place here now. Most met her gaze evenly, offering their quiet strength and support.

For many years now she had been their captain, leading them on the hunt, bringing down game, and defending the clan when they had to

Those brave faces pleased her, after everything that had happened; it was good to know that she was not alone.

A Dalish hunter was never alone; the love of their clan was always there, even when its members were gone.

Ellana winced.

Even when the ones they loved most…were gone.

It was always the same for her, being back in their autumn camp. She had too many memories of this place, too much pain.

Her eyes drifted over to the right, over the tiny hill behind them.

The two trees awaited her.

She tried not to think about it, not now, the clan needed her. They needed to hear her words.

They needed to understand what was coming.

She and her hunting party had only just returned from the site of the Shemlen's latest travesty. What they had seen, what they had heard…no longer could they keep silent, keep to their forest and hope for the best.

What they had seen, what the shemlen mages and Templars had done to each other, and to those around them, it was not just a horrible, it was obscene, evil.

Ellana frowned.

 _Such evil…could no longer be tolerated._

"We have heard the tales of the shemlen wars," she began, her pacing quickened as her heart beat faster.

"Those elves that have fled Kirkwall and other places tell us of how the shemlen chantry has fallen apart. Its Templars no longer guard its mages. Its mages no longer rot in their towers, waiting for their chantry to call on them for aid."

Her frown deepened.

"Now we have heard that the Orlesian Empire, the thieves that stole the Dales from us, are also at war. Their leaders fighting like scavengers eager to pick the bones clean from what they tore from us and each other."

 **"Let the shemlen fight!"** a voice cried out, the widow of a hunter who died years ago, a hunter who had died the same time she had lost Thrad.

Ellana did nothing to silence her; she knew the woman's pain.

She shared it, as did all who had lost loved ones to the humans.

"Let them wipe each other out! Maybe then we can take back what is ours!"

Several of the clan nodded, agreeing with her sentiment. Clan Lavellan had never openly attacked humans, but they were not above defending themselves.

 _That was no longer enough._

Ellana gave her a sad look.

"We can no longer wait," she continued, "Yes, we could sit back and watch the shemlen kill each other, but in doing so, we allow this evil to continue, we allow it to spread to other lands, lands that our people travel."

She paused, letting the fire wrap her in shadows, a shadow she now cast over her people.

"The shemlen care nothing for those that get caught in their war. I have seen it. We followed the sounds of battle this morning, to a shemlen trading post at the edge of this forest.

Ellana shook her head.

"Only now…We found no trading post, only a massacre. Mages giving themselves to battle and to demons, Templars striking down unarmed traders because the abominations just happened to be nearby, we took prisoners, a Templar and two mages. One of the mages tried to use blood magic, to bend us to his will, he was slain quickly. The Templar demanded we release him, that in their world we would be exterminated if we did not…"

She spat on the ground.

"His arrogance was sickening, he died too. The last mage was too badly wounded to heal. It is from him that our suspicions about the shemlen wars were confirmed. The Chantry has fallen apart, and now its slaves hunt each other while the priests hide in their temples praying for a deliverance that will never come, and is not deserved…"

Ellana shook her head.

"They…they killed everyone, **everyone** …even the…the…"

She shivered with rage, memories twelve years old now surged forward. She saw the two trees, she saw herself on her knees still weak with fever weeping before the two trees.

Life would spring from death, that was the way, but it did little for the pain of the one left behind.

She took a shuddering breath, gathering her control once more, forcing down her fury.

She would find release for that soon enough.

"They even slew the children," she growled, "Da'len that could have done nothing to aid their enemies."

Many in the clan shook their heads.

The cruelty of the shemlen knew no bounds; they knew that better than most.

She was not the only one who lost loved ones the day she had lost Thrad.

"Do we flee then Keeper," the clan's craft master called out, likely seeking her to stay Ellana's anger, "Do we preserve what we have and flee this nightmare?"

The keeper sighed, leaning hard against her staff. Long had she led them, wisely too, but this was a storm like none they had seen. It could not simply be outrun.

The Keeper understood that, it had taken her longer to understand, but finally she did…

Now Ellana had an ally.

"We will move on," the Keeper said, "it is too dangerous for us to remain, but we cannot simply run. If what Ellana says is true, we can no longer simply avoid this chaos."

Ellana did not smile, but she almost did. For months they had been hearing about the chaos caused by the shemlen wars. Now that they had confirmation, they could finally act.

 _What they heard, what they had seen, was horrifying, it was chaos…_

… _But…_

 _Chaos could also breed opportunity._

Ellana had long preached of bringing the people closer together. That simply meeting every ten years was no longer enough. If the Dalish wanted a home, a true home, then they needed to be more…proactive.

The Keeper had thought this merely a hazy dream, too much time had passed, the clans so different in their methods and ideas it would take something extreme to bring them all together.

The Orlesians, the mages, the Templars, they were all tearing at each other like animals, their armies splintered and weak, reduced to warring factions.

The shemlen were now divided as much as the people. Only they were openly hostile to one another.

That was an opportunity that could not be passed up.

Orlais had no mages to call on. The Chantry had no Templars to smite down Elvhen magic. Their world was ripe for the picking. The great Orlesian army was slaughtering itself in droves over the Dales, if the flat ears that they had sheltered and traders they had met could be believed.

Ellana's eyes flashed with dark excitement.

Their time…had finally come.

"We must move carefully," she said, reigning in her excitement. "The shemlen are cunning and ruthless. If they realize that we are moving against them, they might try to reunify and fight back. That cannot be allowed."

Ellana found herself thinking about what could come next, what their first move needed to be. Word would need to be sent to the other clans. It would take convincing some of the other keepers could be very stubborn.

Once they had force large enough, they would be able to move back into the Dales. They would arrive as separate clans, at first, so not to draw too much attention, doing their best to avoid the fighting shems. The chantry, lulled into complacency by the familiar sight of passing Dalish would think nothing of it, and even if they did, they did not have the soldiers to stop the people. No elvhen should be able to advance with little or no problem. Then…when the time was right…they start liberating the various cities of the Dales. It would be slow word at first, but then after a few victories they would have the numbers to get things rolling far more quickly. They would be snowflake that falls on a mountainside, a snowflake that sets off a massive avalanche. Their city brethren would be set free, and in their gratitude would join the cause.

Ellana pursed her lips.

There would be some issues with that at first. Many of the Keepers, not to mention their clan mates did not see the city elves as truly elvhen. Some thought them no better than their shemlen masters. Ellana had always had a different view; after all, her parents had been born in the shemlen cities…

They had produced a daughter who was no less Dalish than anyone else born to the clan. The Keepers would need to come to accept that.

It would take a bit of work, but with time and patience they would be able to convince the rest of the Elvhen of the value of numbers. Meanwhile they would launch raids against the feuding Templars and mages, fueling their war, making any chance of peace impossible.

The mages and Templars would continue fighting; the survivors of that fighting would be easily hunted down and destroyed. Any elven mages would be welcomed provided that they turn their back on the corrupt circle and its chantry.

Ellana felt a cold shiver run down her spine. In two year's time, maybe three, they would likely be poised to attack Halamshiral directly. The shem nobles would be overwhelmed; they would ransom the survivors back to their families. The gold and supplies would be used to build up their new kingdom's defenses.

Orlais could still be a problem, but as long as its leaders kept fighting, it would remain only a minor threat. Plus, if the elvhen could destroy the bulk of the Imperial army, they would find themselves under siege by their enemies to the north.

That would give the elves the time they needed. They would dig in, and ready their kingdom to repel any invaders.

Justice would finally be served. The Dales…would be theirs once more.

"Most important of all," she continued, "We have learned the shemlen Divine herself has summoned the leaders of both the mages and Templars to a great Conclave in mountains to the south. She seeks to restore order, and bring her wayward slaves back into the fold."

Ellana shook her head.

"That cannot be allowed. I will go to this Conclave, see what the leaders of the various factions intend. If the Conclave fails we will be free to move as one people."

"What if it doesn't fail," Mahanon asked, "What if the shemlen chantry manages to restore itself to order?"

Ellana's ears lowered.

"I will see that it does not. I will be crafty and smart. I will make sure that the Templars and mages leave the Conclave intent on continuing their war."

She looked around, taking in the faces of those she loved, those she had sworn to protect.

"I will be careful, and return with good news. Be patient, but be ready to move when I return. We should send word to the other clans, prepare them as well."

Her eyes fell on the Keeper.

She smiled slightly.

"We have waited so long to bring the old ways back."

She once again faced the others, faced the two trees behind them, faced what she had lost, and what she hoped to gain.

Her smile widened.

"We…shall wait no longer."

IOI

The next morning Ellana stood before the two trees, her travelling clothes and cloak blowing gently in the autumn breeze.

She closed her eyes, listening to the wind whistling through the branches, the gentle keening filled her ears.

It sounded like the song of mourning, the song she had sung so long ago.

She bowed her head.

The graves were almost gone now. Twelve summers was a long time. Grass had grown over the mounds. The two trees, though still small were brightly colored with red and yellow leaves.

A single tear ran down her face.

Thrad's was more noticeable, but that was only because of its size. Next to him…next…next…

Ellana almost whimpered.

The tiny hole had been almost nothing, but it had held what should have been her future, joys ripped from her far too soon.

She shook her head, remembering a babe's cooing in her ears, the feel of his warm little body in her arms.

She took a shuddering breath.

He had been hers, hers and Thrad's, but he had only drawn breath for only two weeks, and then…he had been gone.

Even after twelve years, the pain was still sharp.

"No parent should have to bury their child."

Ellana did not turn; Mahanon had followed her this morning, the robes he wore as First swished around him. His ash blond hair now shoulder length all but buried his tiny pointed ears.

She almost smiled.

Thrad had been Mahanon's best friend growing up. He had often joked with the First about his small ears.

Mahanon had always responded with a quip, how the size of his ears made it easier for him to tune out distractions, that his training as Keeper was progressing better because of it.

"Falon' Din watches over him now," she said softly, "And what the friend of the dead cannot see, my Thrad most certainly can."

She shook her head.

"I miss them both, but that does not mean that they are not safe."

Mahanon leaned against his staff, though they were the same age, the elvhen First looked far old than he should, the stress of his preparations to lead their clan taking its toll.

He gave her a worried look.

"What you are doing is dangerous," he said.

"I have no choice," she replied.

"Yes you do," he snapped, "You can stay here, serve our clan as you always have."

She turned to face him.

"I am serving our clan."

"You would see us go to war."

"I would see our people free, with a home of our own."

"We have a home," he said hotly.

Ellana shook her head.

Mahanon was no coward, but he thought that they could gain what they wanted through patience and negotiation.

Ellana did not.

Her ears lowered in anger.

"We can no longer hide Mahanon," she said, "The Templars and mages are no longer caged, they have surrendered to ambition that ambition will spread."

She shook her head.

"They believe that their evil is justified, that slaughtering all those who oppose them will lead to a greater good. How long will it be until they turn their eyes on the people? How long until they decide that **we** no longer have a place in this world?"

Mahanon said nothing.

Ellana continued.

"We are stronger than you believe. Stronger than they think we are."

She sighed.

"Tell me lethallin, when did we decide that 'not to submit' meant 'to hide forever?' When did we decide that evil should not be opposed?"

The First shook his head.

"War is not the only way."

"No," she agreed, "But it is only way I can see."

She kneeled down, rested her hand on the two graves, one holding her love and soulmate, the other, her child, taken far too soon.

She sighed.

"Falon' Din keep you both," she purred, "and may the gods grant me the strength to do what must be done."

She turned to leave, adjusting her quiver on her back, her daggers at her side.

She glanced back at her childhood friend.

"Dareth shiral, Mahanon," she said, "Look after our people until I return."

IOI

She began to walk away, out into a world of fear and cold.

Mahanon could not let her leave, not without trying one last time.

"This is not about Thrad," he shouted.

"No," she said.

"It is not about your child!"

Ellana paused.

"No," she said.

He glared into her back.

"You don't have to be what some old crone said you would be!"

That stopped her in her tracks.

For a moment, the First thought she would turn back.

He sighed.

Ellana had only spoken once about what had happened during her first Arlathvhen, she had been a child then, but what she had heard from one of the Elders of another clan had followed her everyday of her life.

She had told him the tale the day after they had buried Thrad, two weeks after they had buried her babe.

It was a prophecy, of sorts; the elder said that Ellana had the fires of destiny burning in her eyes. That she would be a nightmare to the enemies of their people that thousands would fall before her on bended knee that her name would echo through all the ages to come…

That she…Ellana of Clan Lavellan would be the favored of the Dread Wolf, that he would favor her above all others….

That she…would belong to him, and no other.

 _She would be **his** body and spirit._

She said nothing. Had she heard, he knew she had, all she had to do now was step back.

Return to those that loved her.

Ellana shuddered. She glanced back at her friend one last time, and at the graves of her family.

With a heavy sigh she turned.

"Good bye Mahanon," she said, "May the gods watch over you."

She turned away, began her way down the darkest of roads.

Her old friend sighed.

He had tried, perhaps that was all he could do.

"Mythal protect you Lethallan," he murmured.

"Gods watch over us all."


	2. In Shadows

**Chapter 2: In Shadows**

It was a place that did not exist, a hall filled with people who were not really there, people who did not even exist…

Yet that did not negate the fact that they were going to unmake the world.

Torches burned on columns made of black stone, golden light filtered in through windows that had never reflected the light of the sun. It was a hall of shadows, a place that was hidden even from the light of day, far from the prying of eyes of any who would think to do it harm, but that was the point.

No one knew about this place, and no one would…

…until it was too late.

A massive table sat in the center of the room. Nineteen figures sat around it, and behind them, flickering like ghosts, stood their agents and allies. People that no one would ever suspect were a part of what was about to come to pass.

Dangerous people all, but they were nothing compared to the one they waited for. Not a word passed between them, no one dared speak, when their leader arrived, he would no doubt wish to hear everything they had learned.

No one in this place would dare speak out of turn; such was their respect for their master.

Such…was their fear.

Finally, the doors to the great hall opened, and the leader finally stepped into the hall.

As one the figures seated rose and bowed their heads in both respect and submission.

The leader paused, his features hidden beneath a heavy hood, his slender body masking the power within, the power of the ages.

He sniffed at the sight of his followers, necessary evils all, but in the end…inconsequential.

They were nothing, simply shadows on the wall, not even really people, not by his definition of the term.

The leader sighed.

Everyone here was here because they wished to survive what was about to be unleashed, they accepted the fact that they would be servants in a new world.

The leader's eyes narrowed.

They might not truly exist as far as he was concerned, but their loyalty would be rewarded, provided they stayed the course.

He moved forward and took his seat, pausing only briefly to glance over at the empty chair to his right.

The leader frowned. Fury burned in his breast…

…Fury…and memory.

 _They're stronger than you think, you know. You know, I suspect you'll hate this, but she reminds me of…_

The leader took a deep breath. He let his anger flow out with it.

His associate had paid for his betrayal; he would not let the man's foolishness derail their plans, **his** plans.

He sighed.

It was time to get back to business.

"Please be seated," he ordered.

As one the others found their places, more than a few looked at the empty chair to his right, no doubt wondering where their twentieth member was.

Their leader decided to enlighten them.

"I regret to inform you all of the death of one of our number. Brother Felassan lost faith in what we were trying to accomplish, and needed to be…removed.

None of the others responded, of they disagreed with his decision, none would speak it out loud.

It was the advantage of rule through fear, the leader thought; it allowed the single vision to flourish. In time, once the new world had begun, there would be time for multiple views to be spoken of again, but for now…now…

They needed to speak with one voice.

 _How far you have fallen._

The leader shook his head. It was not the first time he had heard his old friend's voice.

As before, he tried to ignore her.

 _You know what this course will bring about; you know what forces you are about to release._

For a moment he could almost see her face, see her sadness at what was to come.

 _Are you sure this is the only way?_

 _Are you sure this is what you truly want?_

The leader's eyes narrowed.

He would not be swayed from his course.

Not by the words of a ghost.

"The Eluvians are lost to us, at least for now," he continued, "It will take time to regain them, but time is what we will have plenty of…quite soon."

He turned to one his followers to his right.

"Did the Tevinters find our little…gift?"

"They…they did, Ser," his servant replied, "Though…I'm still not sure why we need them for this. Would it not be better if we carried out the plan ourselves?"

The leader gave him a sad chuckle.

"Perhaps, my friend, perhaps, but no game can be won without pawns. They are useful in their way, and…"

The leader smiled.

"They are also expendable."

The others around the table nodded, not that the leader expected them to disagree.

They all knew what was at stake, the fate of their people, their destiny.

Everyone here had pledged their lives to see that destiny fulfilled.

What was would be again, and what was now would crumble into ash. The world built since the leader had made his grand move so long ago was tumbling out of control.

All that was required now, was a nudge in the right direction.

Once that occurred, it would all fall apart.

"We believe our…gift, is even now on the way to Ferelden," another of his servants said, her voice cold and husky, even though she was hooded he could see the cold anger in her eyes. She had been born a slave, and freed only after enduring great pain and hardship…

Had she been born when he was young, the leader might have pitied her, but since she had not been…?

She was just another shadow, waiting to disappear with the coming dawn.

"We should see results soon," the girl added.

The leader nodded.

"Do we know where the Tevinters are taking it?"

"The village of Haven, Ser," the first servant informed him, "We know that Divine Justinia is holding a great Conclave there. She had summoned the leaders of both the mage rebellion and the Templars."

The servant shook his head.

"The old bat believes that she can end the war.

One of their agents in the back of the hall stepped forward, though he was not really there, his anger made him almost tangible for a moment.

Even the leader felt heat from the fires of his rage.

"UNACCETABLE!" the shadow snarled, "The war must continue! If we allow the shemlen to make peace it could ruin everything!"

The leader pinned him with a cold gaze, the man fell silent and retreated back, realizing just how badly he had overstepped his bounds.

Their leader's eyes narrowed.

Once he would have petrified a servant for such an outburst, now…he realized the value of patience. Too much of their world had been lost because of rash actions.

Besides, he could not blame the man for his feelings; everyone here had suffered under the reign of the shemlen.

He could not fault their desire to see that world end.

It was a desire he shared, and would see come to pass.

The man's sponsor rose from him seat, he bowed his head.

"Forgive my associate, great one," he almost whimpered, "He meant no disrespect."

The leader snorted.

"No forgiveness is needed," he replied, "Though spoken out of turn, our friend is not wrong, the wars must continue, at least until we are ready to make our final move."

The leader rose from his seat he looked down on those who served him, many who almost worshipped him.

He pursed his lips.

If only they were more to him then just ghosts. They were so limited, so cut off from the true world.

They were useful tools, but that was all they were, tools that could be discarded when the job was done. When the old world return he would see that most of them survived what came to pass, that was the least that he could do.

They might have been his lessers, but even lessers deserved some pity.

"We need to verify that the Tevinters are targeting the shemlen Conclave," he said, "If this is so, we will only have so much time once they have unlocked what we need them to unlock.

The leader smiled.

"Once the pawns have sacrificed themselves, we will then be free to continue, with the powers necessary to bring all that we desire to pass."

His second servant rose from her seat.

"Great one," she said bowing her head, "I request your permission to journey to the Conclave. Once the pawns have served their purpose, I will retrieve the item for you."

She smiled slyly.

"It would be my pleasure."

The leader met her eager gaze with his cool one, he considered her offer. It would be necessary to have a presence at the Conclave, once the Tevinters did what they were expected to do, there would be only a small window of time to reacquire the item.

The leader was tempted to let his servant go, to let her carry out this important mission; she had not failed him, not once during their brief relationship, but…but…

The leader frowned.

Felassan had never failed him either, until he did.

The thought was enough to give even the leader pause.

What was at stake was too big. They had lost the Eluvians. They could not afford to lose this.

He looked out over his assembled servants, his followers, he had promised them much…

How could he trust them to deliver on that promise?

Who was strong enough to even attempt it?

He sighed.

In the end, there had been no choice.

He knew who had to go.

Even, if he did not like it.

His eyes narrowed.

He would not, could not place the future of their people in the hands of mere agents. There was too much at stake.

They did not even truly understand what was coming, they only saw their own ambitions, not caring how easily discarded those ambitions would be once the old ones returned.

He sighed.

They were shadows.

They were nothing.

He could not afford to put all his faith in shadows.

There was far too much at stake for that.

"We cannot afford any mistakes," he said, "I will go myself."

All eyes were now on him, he heard the whispers as the shock spread through the chamber that was not there.

He gave them all a sad smile.

"My risk is no less than yours," he reminded them, "We all want the same things, the restoration of our people, our world."

He shook his head.

"It is best that I see to this matter personally. If I fail, then at least you may continue in my name."

He felt a ripple of pride go through the chamber. No doubt they thought him quite brave to put himself in such danger for their cause.

He resisted the urge to smile.

It was a fiction of course, but a useful one.

He would not risk one of these getting their hands on the item. Their ambitions were petty, clouded with visions of greatness of a world they could not truly understand.

They would be nothing when the old ones returned. He could not risk any of them finding out about that.

Not when he was so close…

Not when he was **this** close.

"We shall convene again once I have reached the Conclave. In the meantime, prepare yourselves."

The leader smiled.

"Our new world is about to begin."

His servants nodded, and one by one, they vanished in wisps of smoke, the servants that accompanied them faded away.

Even the hall vanished, leaving nothing but a small island floating in nothingness.

An island with a single occupant, their leader, he did not vanish like the others, he couldn't.

He was too real for such a simple parlor trick.

The leader sighed.

Once again he had convinced, his servants, his loyal dupes of the righteousness of his cause.

Now he needed to reward their faith in him.

Now, he needed to retrieve their prize, his prize.

Once that was done, the old world would come back, the better world.

And he…would be the architect of that return.

He made his way across the plains of the fade. In the distance he could already feel his body beginning to stir.

Soon it would be time to return to the waking world, back to the world where the people were all as thin as parchment, and as empty as a drunkard's wine cellar.

The leader sighed.

How he hated them, but he drew comfort from the fact that it was almost over.

Soon the prize would be his again, unlocked and ready to be used.

At long last his people would find their place again. It was ironic really.

It had been his choice that had ended the old world and brought new one into being, his greatest mistake.

Now… the time had come to erase that mistake.

The future was his.

Now…he needed to seize it.

It would not be hard.

It was not really a world he was destroying, it was realm of shadows, mortal things that had no idea what real life was.

Sadly, they would not have time to learn.

The old ways were coming back.

Let the mortal races…

…beware.


End file.
